


Vos

by Kit_SummerIsle



Series: Challenge, Fight, Claim [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Suggestive Themes, Violence, caste systems, dub-con, hierarchical society, minor OC's death, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vos before the war, before the problems started that shattered the Golden Era and started the Great War. Seekers living in the great city, younglings growing up and learning to function in society that has sometimes harsh rules and hard realities. But for young Seekerlings the sky is still blue and contrails are straight...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scare

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Who Won - mostly loosely connected ficlets, not a full story

“STARSCREAM!” – his comm burst into a loud shout and the young, mostly white Seeker twitched among the faintly twinkling crystal growths. He inherited his voice from his carrier and while his developing vocalizer was as yet incapable of truly impressive yells, Cloudburst’s was. The slight tinge of worry in the shout must have been his imagination… why would Carrier be worried about him? – “You come home right now or I’ll ground you for a decacycle!”

Slag. He’d hoped that his absence weren’t discovered for another joor at least, so he could secretly play a little with the other youngsters he was expressly forbidden from meeting with. Who cared that Skywarp was from the lowest caste or Sunstorm considered glitched when they were far more interesting playmates than the boring noble Seekerlings, like Thrust with his idiotic laugh and disturbing tendencies to grope? He certainly didn’t.

But his Carrier always obsessed about him not going outside the Aerie alone, even though every young Seeker needed to see and meet their generation for finding their trine later. Not to mention to play. Cloudburst had to know how unlikely was to find his future mates in the small contingent of youngster in the extended clan, especially since he showed no affinity to either of them so far.

And it wasn’t like Starscream hated studying, far from it. He loved everything he excelled in and academics certainly fell into that category; he’d mastered subjects in a rate sometimes worried his tutors deeply, but what made his Creators proud with their youngest son. Competition was in his nature and in his studies he certainly beat every other Seekerlings. But there was more to life than mere studies, no matter how he loved acquiring new knowledge. Hence, sneaking out from the Hall of Records where he was supposed to have an essay to compile and being half-way to the Outer Rings where they could meet.

“Yes Carrier… I’ll go home soon.” – he mumbled back, scowl marring the dark but exquisite, young faceplates.

“NOW, Starscream.”

His Carrier knew him far too much in Starscream’s opinion.

“Okay, okay… flying now, happy?”

“You shouldn’t be outside at all! Make haste coming back, or I’ll tell it to your Sire!”

That was actually less of a threat as far as Starscream was concerned. Starwing was also inexplicably worried about their youngest creation, but he at least understood his need to leave the Aerie, to match his speed and abilities with others in his age group, just before they got their final frames. Why were they so apprehensive, the young Seekerling never quite got. He rather thought that he was safe, that no Seeker, not even the lowest caste brutes would harm the youngest Prince of Vos. 

But his promise wrangled, he had to go back. Sending a short comm message to Skywarp, Starscream turned back and quickly rose to cruising altitude, weaving his way back home among the glittering towers. But halfway home his attention was caught by a commotion on one of the floating squares - it looked like an impromptu dance started up and gathered momentum as the passers-bys joined in. 

The rhythm of clicking thrusters was hypnotic, the swaying of colourful wings enchanting, the sound that spilled far from the square drew the young Seeker like magnetic pollen from crystal flowers. He couldn’t yet join in such dances, but he landed on a nearby tower, watching the small crowd sway and whirl with rapt attention. His own small wings shushed behind him to the rhythm and he tried to hum the unknown song the best he was able to. It looked a bit more rough and primal than the usualPalace dances, more disturbing, containing something indefinable but nevertheless alluring for the young Seeker.

There were others watching the dance too, settling on nearby towers and spires like Starscream, in pairs or threes, watching the events with humming and swaying of their own. Consequently, the small Seekerling didn’t pay any attention to the frames that settled to sit or stand beside him, most, if not all of them adult Seekers, on their ways home from work or just flying by and having time to watch the spectacle.

It was not uncommon occurrence; it only took a random trine starting to sing together for some reason and the Seekers’ inborn sense of songs and dance took over soon, drawing more and more jets into participating. Starscream ached to have his final upgrade at last so he could take part of it; his vocalizer might never enable him to sing beautifully, but he had no less sense of rhythm and love of dance than any Seekers. Even though it was one of the strangest he’s seen so far…

He was so lost in watching, listening and trying to decipher the emotions in the song that the frame settling impolitely close to him hardly even registered, before the deep voice spoke up near his audials.

“What is such a cute Seekerling doing hereabouts?”

Starscream was startled so much that his wings bumped into the much bigger, darker ones of the mech as he jumped. The Seeker was dark greenish grey, the sinister paint making him look even bigger than his adult frame showed him, completely dwarfing the small, mostly white Seekerling beside him. Starscream inched away on the ledge they were sitting on, not wanting to impolitely take off before answering, but uneasy from the dark, smoldering gaze none the less.

“W-watching the dance, that’s all.” – another glance at the flier towering over him and Starscream scurried away even more. He was not afraid. No. He was just… cautious. Yeah, cautious. – “But I must be going. Carrier told me to go home straight.”

“Stay a bit more.” – a strong servo grabbed his wingtip and Starscream’s optics widened in fright – “It’s such an entertaining dance, don’t miss the _end_.”

There was something… dark in his tone as he said ‘end’, something that made Starscream fill with deep dread and he suddenly wanted to be flying home with his top speed. Or faster.

“It’s a good, strong dance for young Seekerlings to learn from.”

“Why?” – his curiosity momentarily overpowered his fear and Starscream turned towards the elder Seeker. He’s never seen this dance before and still, it held some strange draw for him.

“This ritual dance is the core of what we are. Challenge, Fight, Claim. I’m surprised your Creators let you watch it yet. It gets… _stirring_ at the end.” – his tone turned to lewd in Starscream’s opinion and he didn’t like it one single bit.

Starscream gulped. He wasn’t sure what he’s got himself into but he knew that one should never be in a situation without being prepared. And he was woefully uneducated as to this ritual, the things the elder Seeker was alluding and why he shouldn’t be watching the dance. Or why this strange, big flier would want him to stay and watch.

“I truly must go…” – but he couldn’t twitch his wing out of the grip – “P-please…?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.” – the promise sounded good but Starscream thought that he caught something else added too, under the loud, crescendoing music – _for now_. 

Starscream looked outright scared with his wide optics and panting vents, but he suddenly stopped trying to get away from the mech’s grip, like giving up the struggle. Then, he pushed his whole wing down and towards the other flier, jabbing the tip into the metallic palm with all the strength his developing cables possessed. The sudden, foul curse and some liquid tickling his sensors there told him that he succeeded and the dark servo loosened enough for him to yank the wing back, out from his weakening grip. 

Starscream wasted no time to roll and tumble off the ledge, igniting his thrusters in mid-fall. The grab from the dark servo swept just inches over his helm, splattering some drops of energon on him and his engines spluttered slightly, before gaining strength and bearing him down and away. He pushed his considerable engines for so young to the fullest, knowing that if the adult Seeker gave chase, it would still be too slow.

He hoped that the other wouldn’t want to make a spectacle and swooped down, towards the dance, the crowd, where there might be some guards or military mechs who would not take well an adult Seeker pursuing a youngling. He didn’t look back, and consequently didn’t see the dark jet giving up the chase and hovering by the ledge, dark red optics narrowed and looking after his frame like committing his colours to his memory banks.

He was just glad when he got home in three breems, stumbling in tiredness and fright on the landing pad of the Aerie. Seeing that no pursuers came in after him – of course an attacker wouldn’t be so stupid as to follow him to the Palace, he just realized – Starscream straightened up, regulated his venting and marched in to his Carrier. But he too committed the dark colours into memory and sensory alerts.

“So soon?” – Cloudburst’s voice was surprised – “Can it be Starscream that you were actually listening to me for once?”

“If I came too soon, then can I stay out longer next time?” – the flippant answer was covering up nicely Starscream’s still faster-than-usual spark and the turmoil in his processor. The scare was already fading from his processor, filled with things he had to do and learn. 

“Absolutely not!”


	2. Prospects

Skywarp landed on the dilapidated square, slipped on some spilled refuse and hissed angrily. His thruster was splashed with the oily, purplish liquid and much as the young Seeker wasn’t a cleanliness-fanatic, he tried to keep his black plating as clean as he could. It wasn’t like they had a lot of proper wash-racks in the lower slums of the Outer Ring, so it wasn’t easy to stay presentable. But the young Seeker knew that Starscream hated filth and wouldn’t come to play with him often if he kept being dirty so he tried his best. 

Stomping on the metallic surface to dislodge as much of the fluid as he could, Skywarp lost his target from his sight and when he looked up, he cursed angrily, the foul words coming strangely from such young lipplates. Where did that fragging copter go? The outer rings of Vos were home to not only the lower castes of Seekers but the few grounders and outsiders too who were allowed into the secluded city. It meant that the Seekers living there had an extra opportunity to earn their fuel; that is to serve and guide the foreigners.

It wasn’t something a proud Seeker from the Inner Rings would do, but Skywarp didn’t have a lot of choices, just like his Carrier. Their caste determined the small circle of jobs they could ever get and those were fiercely contested by the number of Seekers in the same situation. Skydart was a fast courier and it was a fairly well-paying job, but not having another earner in the family unit and having to pay for a special youngling’s nonstandard upgrades they had little remaining to live by. 

So Skywarp had to earn his fuel from an early age, even since his second frame and for a youngling hardly able to fly yet that left not many opportunities. Thoughts tumbling, turning around, the small Seekerling tried to look among frames and wings, in order to spot the blue copter he was supposed to be escorting around and show the best shops to buy… less than fully legal things. The fragger was faster than him and Skywarp was trained from early sparklinghood not to use his warp drive unless he was both fully fuelled and had prospect of more fuel coming had he depleted his small tanks. 

There! The flash of blue disappeared behind a street corner and Skywarp tore after it, pushing larger Seekers out of his way and duckling under the swipes and blows with what some of them expressed their displeasure at his rudeness. At the corner of the dark street though he had to pause, as the copter he was expecting to see was nowhere in sight. Instead, a pair of Seekers stood in front of a shop window, talking in low tones, a larger and a smaller one, obviously Creator and son, both nice dark blue only their wing stripes different…

Skywarp stared at them for nearly a breem, his spark strangely heavy in its chamber, hesitating, torn between a strange, unwise desire to go to them and ask them… something, anything just to be near that dark blue sheen of their plating - or go after his unwanted charge and earn those ten credits for this orn’s fuel. The blue Seekerling nodded to his creator, accepting his decision whatever it was and they continued on their way down the street. 

But before they could disappear in the dimness and Skywarp could come around from his strange stupor, the youngling turned once more and across the distance looked straight into his optics. Garnet met ruby and across the distance something indefinable contacted and whispered. The large blue Seeker looked down to his creation as he stopped and back the way he stared. Skywarp saw the sudden scowl appearing on the pale faceplates and shame flooded him, making him break the optic contact and jump back behind the corner.

He was used to it generally, the contempt and scorn from upper castes, the ignorance if he did not go close and they could pretend that he didn’t exist… but after that look from the blue Seekerling it felt like a painful stab in his processor. No, he could never hope a Trine-mate that high up. Castes weren’t completely closed and strict but cross-caste partners, mates and trines were exceedingly rare none the less.

Yes, Skywarp had hoped, dreamt when he was in his previous frame that maybe Starscream played with him because he was interested and so they could have something in the future. But Skydart and some of the enforcers and guards who saw him with the Prince made sure to disabuse him thoroughly and forcefully of that dream. He should be glad to be noticed and played with but he should never, ever make a move towards Starscream or encourage him doing so – the lesson was beaten into him without mercy. Or compassion.

The Prince deserved far more than a stray dreg from the slums, no mater that this filth could warp, they said and taught him the lesson thoroughly. Starscream’s orders to not to mess with him were quietly ignored and the young black Seekerling taught his place and station when he wasn’t around. It was, Skywarp shrugged bitterly, life. Still, Starscream did come sometimes when he could and the young teleporter took those visits like the unexpected gifts that they were – and nothing more.

But of the hundreds of similar low-caste Seekerlings that he knew none of them made his spark warm the way Starscream did. Where would he ever find a Trine, the black youngling didn’t know. Not in the slums and he must not look higher… someone would probably claim him in time, lacking any other options, just for his ability to warp and Skywarp scowled deeply at that.

He wasn’t a leader, that he knew instinctly, he’d never have a Trine of his own, even if he could ever break out of the slums. But he didn’t want to be claimed like a piece of useful equipment either by someone stronger than him. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing to be claimed or have a stronger Seeker at your back – Skywarp grew up in the Outer Rings and saw how Seekers lived and mated from the time he opened his optics. There weren’t much privacy in the slums and Trines were Trines even there.

Like… like he could imagine that blue Seekerling and himself… Skywarp snorted again, shaking his helm unhappily. Forget that. He had a life to live and not dreams to indulge. Energon to acquire, most importantly, since he completely lost his assignment by now and that meant no credits this orn. Fortunately he had sources, even though they were more dangerous than guiding a foreigner around.

Starscream was called back again from halfway their playground, he got the comm message and Skywarp’s lipplates trembled. The orn was promising to be a bad one for the black youngster. He would never dare to pump the Prince for credits, not since the lessons not to anyway, but Starscream usually got energon treats with him and he shared them freely. To know that he couldn’t come, straight after loosing his job and the disappointment with the blue youngling… 

Skywarp trudged back to their tower, the lowest part of it where they lived and what was hardly higher than the refuse-strewn, oil-drenched, cyberrat-infested and dangerous ground the sky-high Vosian Towers were so proudly standing on. Skydart wasn’t back yet and wouldn’t be so until the second moon rose and the Outer Ring got the no-flight lockdown, exhausted from the whole orn’s nonstop flying. 

Not that they could actually see the moons, either of them from the dark bottom of the proudly glittering upper city.


	3. Chances

“Come Thundercracker. We still have to find that shop.”

Stormbringer looked sternly at his son. Thundercracker was such a promising Seekerling, he deserved the best they could do for him. He and Lightning had hopes that their first Creation could in time even rise to the military, surpassing what either of them could achieve so far. He shouldn’t pay any attention to such low-caste street cyberrats, there were plenty of more suitable younglings he could socialize with.

They were modestly rich merchants, good at what they were doing, only slightly ostracized because of their dealings with outsiders, often grounders at that – but Stormbringer could never forget his failure at the Academy entrance exam that defined his eventual career choice. He was too slow and completely untrained and therefore having little chance anyway – but he swore that Thundercracker would get anything that would help him succeed where he could not.

“Yes, Sire.”

The blue youngling obediently turned after his Sire and left the small square behind. The black youngling, he saw there was probably a low-caste one judging from his one solid – dirty and faded too - colour, but he surprisingly stood out of the crowd for that. Thundercracker wondered why as he followed his Sire on the small street. He never saw this particular Seekerling before, not even on the racing fields where he thought all younglings had turned up often. Of course there were only a few single-colour Seekerlings there, he conceded. Maybe they had other places to race.

He even saw the High Princes sometime on the main tracks, when they came down from the Aerie, amidst nervous guards looking out for danger and pompous relatives exuding contempt for the crowds of excited and ogling younglings and their creators. Thundercracker, like every other Seekerling on the field envied them for their rich, brilliant colours, their incredible speed and easy agility – they had every advantage, he thought with a slight bitterness, on top of noble birth and high rank. 

Since then, he was even more excited to have a booster at last. Inheriting his Sire’s slow speed, he was at a serious disadvantage in the races and his undeniable strength could only compensate for so much. While strong plating was an accepted asset in a Seeker, it never compared to flight speed or maneuvering ability. But now, with this immensely expensive mod, he could have his speeds up to par and hope for more success in the races and eventually in his Academy entrance exams. 

The frame-shop they were looking for was barely known and definitely not advertised, he knew, only available to them because of his Sire’s connections throughout the Vosian merchant cycles. The booster, like many experimental and rare mods had to be tailored to him personally, going with him into the final frame too, almost like it was an inborn Sigma ability. 

“There!” – Stormbringer’s voice exuded relief at finding the shop at last. This part of Vos was far out of his comfort zone – “Are you ready, Son?”

“Yes!” - he was more than ready, he was eager and excited. Not even the dirty and shady surroundings could dampen his almost palpable joy.

The dusty and cluttered shop was suspicious at first, but once they established who they were and why they came, the trader led them through the back door, into a modern, glittering and clean repair bay. The medic there, a rare, pure white Seeker with stylized, crossed wing-shapes on his real wings greeted them and told Thundercracker to hop on the berth at once, not delaying any. He was a bit friendly too and the blue Seekerling fought down his sudden apprehension. He didn’t like medics a lot.

But the examination wasn’t long and his Sire stayed by the berth all through it and Thundercracker slowly eased off his anxiety. By the time the medic put him under he was completely calm and looking forward to the mod – if not the procedure.

“Don’t worry, Thunder. Everything will be fine when you come online again.”

“Okay…” – he whispered drowsily, sinking into recharge fast.

When Thundercracker onlined, he felt little different and for a klik disappointment rose up in him. But the medic’s voice dispelled it fast.

“Right. Can you hear me, Thundercracker?” – he waited for the nod from the youngling and continued – “I’ll online the booster now and I want you to pay attention to your HUD and tell me anything that stands out. Anything, okay, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

Thundercracker nodded again and after a quick glance at the quivering wings of his glowing, happy Sire, turned his attention back to his HUD. A new component warmed up slowly, and its boot-up sequence ran across his vision, then the notifications for integration and evaluation and finally the internal check-ups that reported everything within operating parameters. It also… tickled.

He told all of that to the medic and was brought up short by a honest, loud laugh from the mech. Chortling with mirth, he was assured that the tickling would pass and the medic unplugged from his systems and satisfied at the successful operation turned to Stormbringer. They completed the agreement, transferred the remaining amount of credits and were free to go at last.

Back to their home in one of the mid-range towers, Thundercracker thought that he could hardly wait the compulsory one orn wait before finally trying out his new mod in the field. His Creators fussed about him, both of them almost as excited as himself, even his normally reserved Sire, babbling about his opportunities now. He completely forgot about the black youngling in all that excitement. 

Barely an orn later he was almost shaking with excitement and eagerness as he stood in the queue for the evaluation track. He knew most Seekerlings around at least from a glance, but he somehow throttled back the urge to tell them the news, wanting to surprise them. The line moved forward with inexorable slowness to allow each youngling sufficient time to complete the aerial obstacle course safely before allowing the next one to start. When it was finally his turn, Thundercracker let the timer scan his ID, took a last, shaky invent… and he was transforming and taking off the platform, his processor on the course, determined to do a good time.

The booster was acting seamlessly, and his speed grew as he swung around the first few obstacles, easily taking the warm-up section of the course. Then came the middle part with its tricky turns, dangerous, moving corners and random hazards. He breezed through them with an ease surprising himself as he flew. Pure joy flooded him as he entered the third part, where speed was an essence to catch the randomly appearing balls of light that contributed heavily to the agility score – this was where he’d always fared badly, but now the small blue tetrajet was fast enough to catch many if not all of those elusive targets… 

By the time he crossed the finish-line, Thundercracker was flying in euphoria. He knew that he’s beaten his old score soundly even before the timer sent him the results, he simply felt how much better it was for the first time around. And with practice, he could improve even more! Then his friends fell around him and he was swamped with dozens of question, congratulations and enquiries – naturally they had immediately noticed the change in his flying. 

For as much as they were friends and liked each other, all Seekerlings knew that not much later, in their final frames they would have to face serious challenges from those who were their friends and school-buddies now. And having one of their number gain a serious improvement was changing the status quo suddenly. Expectations and guesses as to who could, should and would trine with whom were shaken or at least questioned. His value rose, while others’ lost some of their allure – and the acute inner sense of Seekerlings perceived it as clearly like it was spelled out.

And that was when a certain tricoloured frame landed on one of the platforms, his guards around him and the eager, excited crowd suddenly left the blue Seekerling alone to fawn over the youngest Prince of Vos, the elusive but coveted Starscream instead. Thundercracker, for a few kliks hated that spoiled brat with all his spark for taking his rare moments of success and popularity away and stared at the proud frame, angrily sneering across the distance. 

He was surprised, no, he was outright shocked when the dark helm turned towards him and the red glance connected with his own for a klik. It was almost like he knew how bad his timing felt for the blue Seekerling… which was clearly impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I imagine the caste system is that the higher caste a Seeker belongs to, the more colours he has. This way, they can see at a glance really who belongs to where. The lowest caste starts out with a solid colour (like Skywarp here is all black), then a stripe (TC's creators are merchants), then more details (military is higher), then three colours that are the pinnacle of society, the nobles - like Starscream. I'm sure the idea is nothing new but it's used commonly so I have no idea where it is originated.


	4. Duties

“No, you can’t go out. You have to stay in the Aerie for the next few orns, until the delegation from Tarn leaves.”

Starscream pouted angrily at his Sire, then ducked the swipe at his helm for the insolent expression and folded his wings back a bit. Starwing had an uncanny aim at the wingtips when he was angry.

“But why, if I don’t have to be present for the negotiations and whatnot? – he wasn’t whining. No. Starscream cleared his vocalizer. He was just… complaining. 

“You have to attend to the first audience.”

“But not the rest!”

“It doesn’t matter. They might have a youngling with them and that means you’ll have to entertain him.”

“Entertain a grounder? Ewww…”

Starscream stared at his Sire like he was mad. As a Seekerling in his penultimate frame he wasn’t required to attend state functions, in fact so far he was rather prevented to take part in them. But ever since Starflight, his elder sibling declared his career choice in the military and Starshine was lost in that freak accident, Starscream’s schooling was distinctly directed more towards politics and diplomacy. Gone were the easy vorns of studying sciences – the Winglord’s clan needed no scientist from among the Heirs, not when the number of Princes available were down to a mere two. 

“If needed, you will entertain a grounder, Starscream!” – his Sire’s voice turned strict and brooking no further arguments. – “It is the duty of a Prince and you will learn it!”

Starscream, as the youngest of the four Princes had had no such worries for vorns – but as the situation changed until he was nominally second in line for the title, he could not avoid the responsibilities that easy. It had been the main reason he was surreptitiously allowed to sneak out and play with a low-caste Seekerling and a glitched priest-in-training – and it was also the reason why that had became that much harder lately. These orns, Starscream scowled angrily, he was hardly allowed out to the training fields even and his avenues of secret escapes were found one by one and locked down.

“Yes, Sire…”

A joor later Starscream rued the orn he unfurled as a Vosian Prince. The audience was boring like the Pit, the Tarn delegation were crude and boorish groundpounders and yes, there was a youngling with them… the Seekerling shuddered at the thought of having to just get close to the hulking tankformer, about twice his size and three times his mass, much less to play with him as required. What the frag could they do together?

He rather doubted that strategy games would suffice and while target practice was a distinct possibility given the other’s alt-mode, Vos definitely lacked any shooting ranges for grounders. The delegation was brought up in a shuttle and Starscream noticed how they all avoided the edges of the landing pad, or indeed any balcony they saw. Seekers of course didn’t have even the faintest thread of acrophobia, but grounders in Vos always displayed it in various measures.

All too soon he found himself alone – or as alone as he ever got with the guards around – with the mechling called Brawl and after offering some energon treats unable to come up with any kind of entertainment whatsoever. It didn’t help that the Tarnian mechling was gruff and negative, answering only in monosyllabic grunts to his questions. Starscream was fed up with the whole pointless exercise in half a joor. He knew he was rude to start reading while the visitor was sitting across him by the table strewn with delicacies they both ignored, but what else could he do?

He’s rather sneak out to play with Skywarp. The black Seekerling might only be low-caste but he was about ten thousand times more interesting than this supposedly noble mechling. Starscream remembered well when they first met and the memory brought a small smile onto his lipplates. Skywarp had the audacity of using the Prince’s visit to the market to steal energon and create a diversion by tripping Starscream into a stand. While his guards were trying to clean and calm the spluttering, energon-, and sticky sweets-covered Prince, he’d subspaced several cubes and treats and nearly got away with them too.

It almost got nasty then, Starscream remembered…

-o-o-o-

_“Stop the thief!”_

_The vendor shouted and one guard, who thought it unnecessary to go and help the Prince when there were already too many mechs around him, saw a small, dirty back frame trying to escape by him. It was reflex that made him grab one black wing, eliciting a painful yelp when its owner was yanked backwards by it. Huge, frightened red optics stared up at him as he trained the muzzle of his blaster at the figure… and pulled it up and away as soon as it registered with him that it was just a youngling._

_Skywarp seemed to realize that he’d bitten off quite more than he could chew with the number of guards around and tried to wriggle out of the strong grip._

_“No, you won’t get away!”_

_The guard kept him fast and Skywarp did consider warping then. But it was late and the tricoloured – in fact many coloured now with the different brands of energon decorating him haphazardly – frame that just stood up and glared angrily around stopped him cold. It was like his spark lurched and commanded him to stay…_

_“Who is that?” – Starscream pushed his guards away, his plating a sticky mess, but his haughtiness already in place. – “Let me see him!”_

_“Just a lowlife thief, Prince. He’ll be dealt with.”_

_Starscream stepped closer to see the small, black frame in the guard’s servo better. He was… unimaginably dirty and the Prince pulled up his olfactory sensor at the sight and smell. A single colour meant the lowest caste possible, the wings were unkempt, the helm dented in places, the youngling’s whole demeanor suggested crudeness and sin – things he was sheltered from so far and have no wish to learn about either._

_But something stopped him from turning away and leaving the thief to his fate. The upturned faceplates and the red optics that so strangely and defiantly stared up at him? His spark that gave a strong throb like it was telling him something? His processor that suddenly wanted to know how these low-caste Seekers lived? Starscream wasn’t sure. Then the black youngling did something completely unexpected and grinned at him, waving and cheerfully calling out a hello! to him, like they were the best friends and it decided the matter._

_“No, he won’t. Have the damages paid from my treasury and let him go.”_

_“But Prince Starscream!”_

_“No buts. Find me a wash rack somewhere close” – Starscream didn’t want to admit it but no matter how strangely sympathetic the youngling was, he wouldn’t touch something that dirty with a ten-foot pole. Not to mention his own sticky armour. The tricoloured youngling lifted a dripping arm, glanced at it and shuddered. He hated being dirty. Glancing back to the small thief he asked condescendingly._

_“What’s your designation?”_

_“Skywarp.” – he grinned again, completely unafraid by this time as he stood up in the circle of nervous guards. Skywarp was clever and he judged the situation better than most adult Seekers. He knew that the noble – an actual Prince? – got a liking in him and he intended to keep it that way. – “Nice to meetcha!”_

_“Ever seen a washrack from the inside?”_

_“Not many in the outer circles and they all cost credits.” – Skywarp’s cheerful complexion wavered only slightly. So being dirty would make him lose this wonderful opportunity to pump this obviously rich Seekerling. Better remember that._

_“You’ll see one now. Then you’ll show me where you live.”_

_“You won’t like it much, I bet.”_

_“But Prince Starscream! You can’t go to the slums!”_

_Ohh… Skywarp smirked at the sudden flash of defiance in the tricoloured youngling’s optics. The guards lost this fight before it started, he was sure. Apparently telling Starscream that he **couldn’t** do something was a nice recipe to have him try anyway. His smirk widened as the guardsmechs were ordered to return to the Aerie – so he was an actual Prince… wow! – and their objections overruled swiftly._

_They got into a small, public washracks of an inn, got cleaned so thoroughly that Skywarp felt his paint was scrubbed off and they emerged into the bright sunlight sparkling clean and alone. Starscream was bossy and brooking no arguments, but Skywarp could deal with that. But he was also interested, really interested and willing to follow the black youngling to the outer circles where he’d probably never been before and asking questions about their lives. In exchange Skywarp never let him get bored and was always careful of asking too much in exchange._

-o-o-o-

And now he had to sit here and stare at a boring groundpounder mechling instead of having fun with Skywarp. Starscream cast another disgusted glance at his companion and wished the joor to end soonest. He would sneak out afterwards, the Prince swore to himself. It’s been nearly a groon he last met with Skywarp and much as he liked to study, he was still a youngling. A sudden idea flashed into his processor…

“Are you interested to see how Seekerlings train?”

Brawl looked back with a bored and gruff expression. By this time he got over his fear of the heights and became bored – enough so to accept whatever Starscream suggested.

“Why not? It’s better than just sit here.”

“Come on then. You can get there in a transport and the observation platforms are safe for grounders.”

Starscream was galvanized into action, ordering a transport to the Tarnian and entrusting him to some of his guards, and they were soon at the training fields. He even made sure to stay with him for a few breems, pointing out the obstacle courses, the shooting ranges – as he thought, it was what interested the tankformer the most – the agility games and out of politeness, some of the nobles he could see around. 

Not many at this time of the orn – the morning cycles were usually study time and the training fields were sparsely populated. They still gathered a small crowd around and he introduced the noble Seekerlings to the foreign mechling, some of whom were better at talking niceties than him. He got bored of it soon though, and decided to stretch his wings on the course. 

Casting a casual look at the scoreboards, he saw a new name at the top. Starscream of course knew all the Seekerlings who could come even close to him and so he was surprised a bit by the new designation he never saw there before. _Thundercracker_ … the Prince murmured the designation out loud. A good, strong one. Standing out nicely without being queer or ostentatious. A good, solid result too. He’d have to see who this new Seekerling was.

After he beat the score of course.


	5. Friends

Thundercracker trained on the field every chance he got. He was good in the academic subjects too, achieving good marks with hardly any effort, and so he worked on his flying in virtually all his free time with commendable diligence. He was at the training fields when the first light of the sun painted the tower-tops gold, stretching his wings before the school started – and he went there after it ended, barely taking any time to refuel and throw down his datapads at home, often staying until the first moon rose.

Stormbringer supported him in it fully, never complaining that they hardly saw the blue Seekerling at home aside from recharging and refueling. He knew how much flying meant to Thundercracker and he was proud of his son to rise steadily in the rankings as time went by. The enormous investment that the booster was seemed to pay off beautifully as he got used to it and adjusted his natural style for the greatest results.

In a scant few groons Thundercracker rose to be steadily in the top of the rankings of his age group, contending heavily for the prestigious top ten, who would be personally decorated by the Winglord himself at the end of their school year. It was of course a great honour and hardly ever got anyone but noble-born Seekerlings or military ones to the elusive group. For Thundercracker it would be a dream coming true – but a dream for which he worked long and hard to achieve.

Even now, he noticed that the Seekerlings calling him a friend grew steadily in number. The blue flier wasn’t very social by nature, so this increased popularity caused him a bit of unease too – but it gave him several new opportunities for prospective future Trine-mates too, the likes of which he couldn’t dream of before. His Carrier tried to teach him more manners and techniques to handle social situations better, but he still remained a bit shy and introverted. 

“No-no-NO! You can’t do the third turn that way! You drop speed and you’ll never catch the next gate, no matter where it pops up.”

A blue-grey and a silvery helm leaned over the 3D model of the racecourse, arguing heatedly. Wings twitched agitatedly and digits pointed forcefully at the display as they debated the ways and hows of the course to improve their time. 

“You can’t but I can!” – the silver-helmed Seekerling declared – “My wings are narrower and I can turn much closer than you.”

Thundercracker cast an unimpressed glance on said wings, which flared slightly at the attention, their silvery surface catching the sunlight. For a nanoklik the blue Seekerling admired the way the light-rays slid on the shiny surfaces… but he was more interested in flying.

“By a full inch. I would hardly call that a meaningful difference. But anyway, I couldn’t see you catching the gate all that often.”

“But I did sometimes!”

“Pure luck. You can’t do it your way and expect success. Relying on luck is… foolish.”

“You just want to mislead me!”

“Why would I?” – Thundercracker balked – “I thought we both wanted to do better.”

Silverwing pouted and crossed his arms over his canopy. He used to like the blue Seekerling’s company… but since he got so much better he thought him insufferable. It was like… like he wanted to be the one telling how to do things suddenly, since he got so much better. And Silverwing didn’t like that… didn’t like it at all. He wanted to be a Trine leader and the time for their graduation came closer each orn and Thundercracker, nice, calm, polite and above all knows-his-place Thundercracker suddenly acted like he knew everything better and Silverwing was having strange urges to accept his arguments and… that could not lead to anything good.

“You mean _you_ want to get better.” – he scowled angrily, settling for that weak excuse.

“Of course I do! And you never listen to me lately!”

“I shouldn’t have to! I know how to fly, I don’t need you to tell me!”

Thundercracker suspected what was Silverwing’s problem, but he thought that they were friends enough so the silvery youngling could get over his growing envy. But it seemed not to be the case. A groon ago, he would have gladly followed the silver-and-red Seekerling, the single Creation of a highly acclaimed Trine who were all veterans in the Vosian Defense Forces. He’d have been happy to accept Silverwing as his future Trine-leader; after all he had been scoring just slightly over Thundercracker and seemingly didn’t care about his merchant origins either. They had planned to go to the Military Academy together and things seemed to be straightforward for both of them. 

But it wasn’t quite like that any more. With the booster, Thundercracker beat Silverwing’s scores by a huge margin and saw the silver youngling’s boasting of his abilities as empty, pompous and pitiful. His confidence grew and he saw the mistakes they’ve both been making, was able to correct them… but Silverwing acted like it was all wrong. 

“Fine.” – Thundercracker tightened his lipplates and spread his wings decisively – “Have it your way… and see if I care.”

He straightened up and left Silverwing to fly one more round before leaving. This time he chose the shooting range and for the next joor he proceeded to hunt down the various targets the ever hardening levels threw at him. He tried not to notice that Silverwing has not followed him. There were other Seekerlings around but the silvery flash wasn’t among them. 

Thundercracker ex-vented a few times and commed the course AI to raise the level again. He needed the distraction. He’d find others to be Trine. It wasn’t like the silver youngling was anything special, no. He swung around a corner and shot the target with so much excessive firepower that it exploded in a shower of parts and the field’s AI warned him to be more careful. The next target shot back – a small, weak laser only to warn him of his preoccupation, but it found the aileron on his left wing and it stung.

Thundercracker landed, pulling out of the course. The slight burn was nothing really, hardly even showing up and would disappear by the time he got home. But it was really for the best if he didn’t do any more shooting while this upset. Silverwing apparently left while he was inside, along with most of the Seekerlings – the day cycle was drawing to its end, the light-rays between the towers becoming darker and casting longer shadows on the ground. 

Thundercracker didn’t feel like either training or going home. He swept up to the highest observation platform and sat there among the shadows, pedes swinging down from the edge, fuming slightly. The training field was nearly empty by this time, the bright colours from hundreds of Seekerlings disappearing and the deepening shadows made the place look stark and bleak.

He wasn’t sad, the youngling tried to convince himself but his drooping wings told another story. He’d find others to befriend with and maybe trine with in time. True, he wasn’t the best in making friends, but there were others seeking him out. Problem with that was that he didn’t like the allusions they came with. They mostly expected him to become a follower to their groups and Thundercracker didn’t want that. 

He wanted a Trine. His Trine. To find and dominate the other Seekers who would become his wingmates. He didn’t want to follow another because of caste, rank or wealth. He was now too good for that, he was better than most of them! His wings flared up and small turbines growled deeply, angrily. He’d show them. He would!

Coming out of his musings, Thundercracker realized that he really should go home now. The place was nearly empty in the twilit darkness, peppered only with some harsh, artificial lights and the first moon would rise soon. But there was still someone flying the racecourse, far later than usual and the blue Seekerling couldn’t quite suppress his curiosity welling up. Usually, he was among the last to leave and the darkness made the course hard, nearly dangerous.

Whoever it was flying down there, had to have a really dark plating though. Thundercracker rebooted his optics to night lighting and glided onto a lower platform. Still, the flier in the course hardly even showed up, mostly he only heard his straining engines and an occasional cursing when something didn’t go as he planned. 

Thundercracker glanced up to the scoreboard but saw no new designation among the top scores. His own was at the top and he felt a warm pride flaring his wings at that – every orn he stayed there the more would notice and remember him. The scoreboard flashed silently with the newest result and the new score was way down the ranks, barely where Thundercracker himself used to be. The name was one he’s never seen before either – one of Skywarp. Either a younger Seekerling or he never came here before, Thundercracker concluded. 

Then the youngling emerged from the track and transformed, looking up the scoreboard himself. He was all black, not even a single stripe or sticker flashing in the meager lights and the blue Seekerling suddenly remembered. The dirty, low-caste youngling from the town, he had seen and forgot. The black wings lowered and he sighed unhappily, a last, foul curse floating from his mouth. Thundercracker couldn’t hold himself back.

“Why don’t you come earlier, while it is still lighter?”

His helm snapped up suddenly, apparently surprised that anyone else was still around, wings twitching agitatedly.

“Why do you care?”

“You could do better if you actually saw the course.”

“I’m not exactly welcome here, wiseaft!”

“Every Seekerling in Vos has a right to come here and train.” – Thundercracker paused. Come to think of it, he barely ever saw single-colour younglings around – “I think...”

“Right, I have. Welcome, spare fuel for flying and free time… not always.” – the black youngling’s voice was defensive and aggressive at the same time. – “…and I don’t take slag from rich aftholes.”

“You don’t have to be poor to get slag from them.”

Skywarp grinned crookedly at that and Thundercracker saw his glance slid to the single red stripe on his wings in the deepening darkness.

“Right… I guess it’s not accidental that you are still here as well.”

“I shouldn’t be… it is late.” – Thundercracker realized suddenly that he was very late already – “Slag the first moon, the second one is gonna be up soon.”

Skywarp looked scared at that suddenly for some reason and Thundercracker looked at him questioningly.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… can’t go home now.”

“Why not?”

Skywarp stared at him incredulously. “Don’t you know? The Outer Ring is locked down after the second moonrise. You know, we are all thieves and criminals there…” – he added on a bitter tone and a deep scowl.

“I… didn’t know that.” – Thundercracker felt somewhat guilty of distracting the other for so long – “Do you have a… a place to stay…? An inn or something?”

“Inn??? An inn or something??” – the laugh was bitter and slightly hysterical – “No, rich guy, I’m gonna spend the night cycle under that structure, in case a rain comes.”

Thundercracker hesitated, torn between the politeness of offering the other to take to his home tower and the learned mistrust of the low caste stranger. Skywarp didn’t exactly look dangerous, but one could never know with his caste… there were some desperate ones among them, the blue Seekerling knew. But before he could decide, Skywarp solved the problem for himself.

“Well, rich guy, scurry home to your Creators. I’ll find a place.”

He stomped away, not even waiting for an answer and in a few steps his black plating dissolved in the darkness, the noise of his steps disappearing soon after. Thundercracker felt a little disappointment… or was it shame? He wasn’t sure, but he had to go. Transforming and flying away with top speed he swore to get back the first rays of the day cycle, to find the other youngling again. He wasn’t sure why… but it was important.


	6. Training

As the day cycle came, Skywarp decided to have another go at the course before any of the higher class Seekerlings arrived and started picking on him. He wasn’t very good at it, but then he’d been here only a handful of times before and on most occasions he wasn’t even allowed to fly the course, he was pushed out of the queue again and again… and the remarks were so cutting, harsh and humiliating that after a while he didn’t try to get back again.

The old training course at the outskirts of Vos, where he could go was barely more than a ruin after eons of existence without repairs and flying it was more like survival training than any sort of exercise. Not unlike the whole Outer Ring, Skywarp thought bitterly, he didn’t need the old racing course to weave around towers and try to avoid erratic fliers, practice landing on rickety old platforms and balance on precarious edges… but it was so much different to fly that way, for survival and this way, to hone one’s skills in safety.

Yesterday he flew more to learn what the course entailed than for any score. The small, 3D model of the course, where the other younglings debated theories of flying was interesting, but he wasn’t one for theories – it was too much like studying which he eschewed for vorns now, partly out of necessity, partly because he hated to sit still and cram useless facts into his memory banks. It wasn’t like any mech cared about their caste learning anything and no amount of studying would get him higher.

This day cycle though, he flew for real. He took the course seriously and didn’t try to save fuel, going all out. It was strangely exhilarating to fly for flying’s sake… Skywarp exulted in the way his small frame tensed and stretched as he turned, rolled, ducked and rose to meet the challenges, wing sensors gleefully informing him of the barely there inches till the walls and gateposts. Emerging from the labyrinth at the end he laughed openly as he transformed and landed on a high platform, the course he just finished spreading before his pedes. 

For a glorious klik he forgot castes and worries, remarks and warnings and basked in the feelings… and the rising Sun’s warming rays. There weren’t any other youngling around to sour his mood with humiliating barbs. The scoreboard held his designation only, being the orn’s first flier and the time wasn’t even that bad, he remembered the others’ from the previous occasions.

“Not bad. Toldya it’s better in daylight.”

Skywarp whirled around to find himself faceplates to faceplates with the very same Seekerling than last night cycle. Now he could see the other’s deep blue colour better, the shining, rich paint a sure sign of his wealth. For a klik he was surprised to see him so early out here, before frustrated anger swamped that emotion.

“I don’t need spoiled brats to tell me when to fly! Why don’t you go and lick their wings?”

A black servo pointed to the first arriving group of colourful Seekerlings, settling on the higher platform and greeting each other before daily fun could start, among brightly coloured, shushing wings and politely spinning turbines.

“Slag you! Why are you so rude?”

Thundercracker growled and pushed the black youngling backward with both servos. The red optics flashed in anger before his arms came up and swept his away, one pede sneakily kicking him in the knee guard. Thundercracker heard excited shouting and saw winged frames landing on their platform, watching them excitedly as they fought. He engaged his thrusters, pushing both of them off the platform and they fell together before the other too started to apply lift. 

They flew around, trying to gain an upper servo, occasionally hearing the cheers and jeers from the spectators, until Thundercracker decided that he needed no audience and steered their flight path to a small, usually empty square nearby. The top of a smaller tower gave a good enough landing pad and the airspace above was generally empty this early. It would be a better place for their… contest? He wasn’t sure what it was but he intended to find out. Once there he transformed back and turned to catch the black youngling again.

Their pushing and pulling quickly deteriorated into an aerial brawl and Thundercracker felt confident that he was the stronger, well able to force the black frame down, towards the landing pad. But he didn’t take into consideration the underhanded moves the black Seekerling employed. Sly kicks to his interface panel, blows to wingtips, claws scratching his cockpit… the low-caste mechling apparently cared very little about the unvoiced but usually accepted rules of aerial fights. 

But as he fought back, using his greater mass and better training, the blue Seekerling found that he strangely enjoyed the bout. It was testing him strongly and there was something more to the brawl, something he couldn’t express or voice even within his processor. Something felt… right about them fighting, strange as it sounded. It was strange and so distracting that the blue Seekerling let them lose altitude and half landed, half crashed onto the platform together. 

“Oooomph… you glitch!” 

He fell on top, pinning down the other Seekerling with his slightly larger and heavier frame and for an eternally long klik Thundercracker reveled at the warm frame under him, their EM field meeting and curiously tingling. Their glances met… and suddenly they scrambled apart like the other had rust infection, stopping at a distance, panting and optics flashing with unsure emotions, infused with acute embarrassment. Black and blue wings flared up and out, trembling slightly in confused emotions.

“What the frag was that!” – the black youngling shouted, servos and wings up and flaring.

Thundercracker couldn’t answer as he had no idea, aside that whatever it was it felt right and… somehow good? So he shrugged.

“We fought?”

“Yer a glitch!”

But the black youngling suddenly grinned, his mood changing so fast that Thundercracker actually blinked a few times to be sure of what he was seeing. Yep, grinning from audial to audial, servos on his hips and wings… twitching up and down with his mirth.

“Yer a glitch but funny.”

Thundercracker wanted to feel insulted but strangely, he couldn’t find it in himself. The grin was contagious and the black Seekerling was… well, he wasn’t bad. He felt his own lipplates twitch to form a smile too and he didn’t fight the urge.

“Hey, turbocat’s got yer glossa?”

“You speak enough for both of us.” – he pitched his tone to exasperated but his own wings pricked up too, to show that it wasn’t serious.

“So, what’s yer designation? Me is Skywarp, but you know it already.”

“Thundercracker.”

“Yer here often?”

“Every orn.”

“Wow, yer so serious about it! Why so much?”

“I want to get to the Academy, so I must practice a lot.”

“Academy, ehh… must be nice.”

There was a klik’s uneasy silence between the younglings. Thundercracker didn’t know what to say, while Skywarp was apparently disheartened by the mentioning of the Academy if his drooping wings were any indication. It must be an impossible dream for a low caste Seekerling, so much even Thundercracker knew. Pit, it was almost a dream for him too. 

“What about you? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Not having a lot of time to come here.”

“Why? Do you study a lot perhaps…?” – somehow Thundercracker didn’t think so…

“Study???” – the black Seekerling was laughing so hard, he nearly doubled over – “He says study! Oh my Primus! Yer really a funny glitch!”

Now Thundercracker was sure that he was insulted. He crossed his arms over his cockpit and scowled.

“Well, I study a lot too, it is not that funny.”

“I haven’t been to a school this vorn… hahaha… and won’t be in one either any time soon.”

“But why? What do you do if you don’t study and not have time for training either?”

“I earn my fuel, rich guy!” – a frustrated grimace deleted Skywarp’s smirking expression – “You know? I work, because we haven’t got so much to let me do things I just wanna do.”

“Ohh… I’m… sorry?” 

“Not yer doing.”

“But… it’s not right. You should be able to train, to develop your skills. You weren’t bad even without training.”

“Life is not fair.” – the dark youngling scowled and shrugged a black wing that strangely drawn Thundercracker’s optics – “Yer rich, ye get more, that’s the way it is.”

“But you can get better too! Surely you have plans, dreams…?”

“The most I can dream is being a soldier… but Vos doesn’t have a war so that’s out too.”

Skywarp shrugged carelessly, with only a hint of his frustration by the facts. He rarely dwelt on such problems that he couldn’t solve. 

“I bet you couldn’t do the old training course where I trained a few times. Starscream couldn’t and he is the best.”

Thundercracker felt challenged and almost answered haughtily when the second sentence hit his processor like a hammer and the half-formed answer spluttered in his vocalizer into static. 

“Y-you… what? Who? THE Starscream? How… how do you know him?” – he tried to regain his composure. It was impossible that the Prince of Vos flew on a dilapidated course in the Outer Ring slums with a low-caste Seekerling. Impossible! – “That’s like… another Starscream, right?”

“Uhh, no. There is only one Starscream, the Prince. We met a while ago.”

“B-but he is a stuck-up, obnoxious glitch!”

Skywarp looked back at him surprised.

“No, he isn’t. He is all right for a noble actually.”

Thundercracker stared back at him in a way saying that Skywarp was either a few chips short of a working processor or joking. Badly.


	7. Rules

_Warning: references to sticky interface (not detailed)._ \---------------------------------------- 

“I’m truly sorry, Prince, but I cannot allow you to go out.”

Starscream scowled deeply at the Palace guard in front of him. The light blue and yellow Seeker towered over him by at least half more his own size but mere size has never fazed the headstrong young Prince to tear a new exhaust into anyone if he felt like it. And Arrowhead, standing at stiff attention, strongly suspected that he was in for one of those famous tantrums that signaled no good for a simple guard. But then, what else could he do? Starwing specifically ordered them not to let Starscream out of the Aerie under any circumstances and he very much wanted to retain his job.

So he stood in front of the young Prince, trying to hide the starting up trembling in his thrusters and keep his wings steady under the definitely queer glare. The small, white Seekerling stared up at him with those nerve-racking optics that unnerved the Pit out of Arrowhead. No youngling should be able to look so… so… he couldn’t even describe what was wrong with that stare. It felt like spearing into him like laser guns and made his tanks roil and quake with _worry-fear-dread…_

The guard snapping back to the present, realized that he almost took a step backwards from the stare of a Seekerling half his size and barely the tenth of his age. He shuddered inwardly and steeled his resolve, looking stiffly over the dark helm of the young Prince, avoiding that unnerving stare. By doing so he completely missed the nanoklik-long amusement and grudging acknowledgement in the Prince’s red optics and the barely suppressed grin on his lipplates.

“Very well.”

Starscream turned on his thruster, marching back from the doorway of the main landing pad, leaving the poor guard to his nearly audible relief. He would fly out, no matter what. The Aerie after all had numerous exits and entrances and he knew all of them. He smirked slightly as he flew down on the main corridor, towards the lower part of the tower, where the groundpounders’ lift and staircase was. The sentries never thought to guard those, since the entry point at the bottom was locked tightly, so no grounder could come up without permission – but a determined Seekerling didn’t need to go down to the ground to escape through one of the windows on the staircase. 

He met few others on his way as he flew in the slanted corridor, the main thoroughfare of the Aerie, usually busy with Seekers flying up and down about their duties and tasks. It was wide enough to let several fliers pass each other comfortably and small landings by the doorways dotted its sides, along with the yawning mouths of smaller oblique flyways leading up or down to the rooms or other levels.

Grounders visiting the Aerie – rare as that was – have always hated the structure of the tower that was designed exclusively for fliers and the few conventional staircases and horizontal corridors were all tucked away to the back parts like they were something to be hidden as shameful. The main corridors were all designed to be flown not walked and connected the different levels in a sloping design, the best for slow, base mode flying. 

But as Starscream was flying along the main corridor, he was brought up short by some unusual noise from one of the chambers. Shouting was rare in the Aerie and most of the time it happened, it involved him being disciplined, so the tricoloured Seekerling was understandably curious – curious enough to decide to investigate. He flew unconcerned in front of the guards standing stiffly in front of the door in question, on the sides of the landing – his Sire’s rooms, interestingly enough - and turned off at a smaller flyway which led somewhere he could sneak in without being stopped.

Cloudburst was in his wash-racks fortunately, so Starscream could cross his quarters nonchalantly, waving to the servants to continue what they were doing and disappear into the doorway connecting his Creators’ rooms. These chambers were far more elaborate with dozens of exquisite presents from many parts of Cybertron wanting to appease the feared but coveted Winglord. Starscream folded his wings to his back and snuck in, going from the shadow of one huge crystal statue till the next like a little spy. 

The yelling was louder here and he recognized Starwing’s voice that exhorted someone loudly and angrily. Curious… he’s heard Starwing angry before of course, but there was something… different in his tone from the times his Sire was yelling at him for sneaking out again or pranking the pompous Solarwind, his uncle. It was somehow deeper, more breathless and frequently interrupted with curious clanging. 

Was he beating somemech or what? That would be strange, the Winglord rarely if ever needed to resort to beat another Seeker himself. Starscream couldn’t remember a single time it happened in fact. Quietly like a cybercat, he tiptoed to the last doorway that hid the mechs in the next room to peek in by the doorframe. The yelling was quite loud here and he understood some words of it even… _brought shame to the Trine_ … and something sounding like … _behaving like a youngling_ … was it Raindancer again pranking somemech? Without him?

The third member in Starwing’s own Trine was a veritable prankster and Starscream’s best collaborator in all matters that they were separately or collectively forbidden to do. If he was being punished somehow, Starscream wanted to know exactly what for and how he could help him, repaying past favors. Peeking cautiously around the doorframe, he saw Stormglide first, the Royal Wing-second standing half-turned away from him with his arms crossed, wings lowered and looking ahead with a small, worried scowl.

Seeing that the dark grey and green Seeker didn’t notice him, Starscream bent his helm more into the doorway to see more. Red optics widened slowly as the youngling took in the scene, identified the clanging noise and its participants, white wings flaring out behind him in a silent shock. Starscream gulped uneasily, jerking his helm back and hiding again behind the wall. What the frag…?

Well, he knew what the _frag_ it was, he’d studied the mechanics of Cybertronian reproduction vorns ago, even though in this youngling frame he’d have no practical reason to know about it. It wasn’t even hard to recognize it as the action his Sire was engaged in. What made him queasy was to actually see his _Sire_ doing _that_ to _Raindancer_ … it was what _bondmates_ did, was it not? Or so he’d believed so far. 

The small, tricoloured frame stood flush to the wall by the door, wings plastered tightly to the surface, to keep them from clattering, optics wide and flickering with uneasy nervousness. He tried to understand it but the same words circled in his processor round and round… _Cloudburst was Sire’s bondmate, so why… how… Raindancer?_ He wanted to run away but still retained enough sense to know that he’d be discovered if he caused any noise. Besides… he wanted to have another look to make sure he was seeing what he’d thought to see. He had to make sure!

With some dread and apprehension, Starscream turned again, flicking his wing out of the way and peeking around the doorframe again. He couldn’t quite reconcile the angry yells with the act he observed. Sire was visibly angry and Raindancer’s faceplates hardly visible as he was bent forward, but he looked meek and apologetic – and neither showed any pleasure the interfacing act was supposed to entail according to the datapads he kept secretly under his berth. It was more and more baffling as Starscream desperately tried to understand what was happening. 

Raindancer was bent forward kneeling, his blue-green helm nearly touching the floor, like a mech being punished. Starscream saw such events in historical holovids, when a mech was whipped as punishment or something like that. But that wasn’t what was happening here, for Starwing stood far too close to him, straddling his aft and… Starscream’s optics widened both in shock and interest that he could not yet place, but it caused him squirming uncomfortably.

Starwing’s grey servos gripped the blue-green wings with a strong, denting grip that made Starscream hiss in sympathy and his own wings flicked backwards in a remembered ache. Sire never hesitated to grab them if he was torqued off… He was pulling Raindancer back towards him now, and that was the source of the clanging he noticed earlier, white plating throwing sparks as it ground into the bluish one… 

The sounds, words and noises slurred together in Starscream’s processor, creating a cacophony that threatened to swamp his meta completely. He couldn’t tear his wide-opticked stare away from the sparks that got thrown between the clanging plates. He couldn’t move his own servos that gripped the doorframe strong enough to dent it, holding him up as much as keeping him in place. He couldn’t keep his wings from trembling in an unknown emotion.

Something awakened in him, something deep in his core that caused him to heat up but also left him reeling in its frightening intensity. The two Seekers in front of him and their behaviour that his processor narrowed his focus onto were important in a way nothing else seemed before. White noise swallowed up the shouting that rose from the third Seeker present, who turned towards him and hurried to grab a shoulder and drag him out and Starscream moved like in a dream, twisting out of Stormglide’s grip and holding on to the doorframe with all his might, optics frozen on the spectacle in front of him. 

His Sire looked up and spotted him and bright, yellow-flecked wings flipped up and flared out in a motion Starscream couldn’t decipher. Raindancer dropped his helm to the ground and groaned at the last thrust, giving up and hiding from the storm that he was sure to break out soon. Starwing’s shout broke the white noise and returned Starscream into the real world from his daze and finally allowed Stormglide’s servo to catch him and yank him back, out of the doorway, into the other room.

Wide, fever-bright, barely red optics turned up to Stormglide’s helpless ones querulous and uncomprehending. Starscream held onto the wall and the elder Seeker’s servo like lifelines to hold him upright as he shook. He was deeply shocked, completely dazed and for some reason hot, squirming and feeling helpless in the whirlwind of coding that roiled in his processor, unresolved and chaotic as yet. 

“Starscream!” – Stormglide shook him by the wing and Starscream snapped out of his daze suddenly – “What are you doing here… are you all right?”

“Starscream!” – a deeper voice joined his and Starscream saw his Sire towering over him. He was angry, but also worried – “How did you come in?”

“I… what was that?!?” – he didn’t expect an answer… well, not a real one anyway. Starscream was intelligent enough to judge the situation as something he definitely should not have seen and that always meant a non-answer from the adults.

“NOTHING!!!” – the twin yells from both Starwing and Stormglide confirmed his expectations. There might have been a muffled giggle from the other room that could only have come from Raindancer, but Starscream was already handed off to his Sire and dragged out of the room forcefully, Starwing already starting on a stern lecture. The drastic effect was only slightly marred by the fluids splattering his front, which Starscream tried hard not to think about or let his optics wander there.

He’d have to do a research into Trine matters it seemed, when he realized that he would get no explanation yet, just a lecture. Maybe Skywarp could tell… the black youngling did refer to such events in the slums a few times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note to who is who: Starscream has two creators, Cloudburst and Starwing. Both of them have their own Trines, just like it is hinted at in the main fic, that trine-leaders usually bond with other trine-leaders, while their second and third are bonded with each other. For Starscream his Sire’s trine-mates (Stormglide and Raindancer) are like uncles, although they aren’t related. All those bondmates, crations, siblings and their various trines form the clan who lives in the Aerie and is like a big, extended family. 
> 
> Note2: I was thinking hard about the Seeker architecture. Usually Seeker towers and spires are just described like normal buildings inside, only taller. But it is logical to be different, since they prefer flying to walking, so horizontal corridors and stairs connecting well-defined levels are not the best for them. So I vent for slanted corridors and a 3D, beehive-like inner structure where levels aren't clearly defined. Hope it's not too strange.


	8. Warnings

“You called me, Sire?”

“Come in, Starscream. Sit.”

Starscream stepped in through the elaborately carved door that was shut behind him by the guards on duty and circled the table to the small settee where Starwing and Cloudburst sat, waiting for him. On the outside he looked attentive and respectful, but inwardly he groaned – it promised to be one of those serious and usually boring talks about family matters that he hated. He dipped his wings in a polite greeting and sat opposite to them on a backless chair.

“Starscream…” – it was unusual for the Winglord to appear hesitant or nervous but Starwing definitely appeared so – “You observed something a few orns ago that we must discuss.”

Starscream knew that he shouldn’t interrupt his Sire, but he definitely didn’t want to have The Talk right now, orns after he discovered himself what it was all about. So he did. With nervously fluttering wings and on an embarrassed tone of voice…

“Uhh… I’ve learned what it was, Sire…” 

“Nevertheless, it is important that we talk about it.” – Starwing frowned, but it wasn’t an angry frown, Starscream noted. Rather… worried? – “…for more than one reasons.”

“Star, the medics said that you are ready for your adult frame.” – Cloudburst added and Starscream was confused for a klik before elation set in.

“Really? B-but I thought it’d be a few more vorns yet…!”

“Normally, yes. But your spark is ready for it. It is a great occasion, not the least because with this you’ll officially be an Heir, even if just after your brothers in the line.”

“But it also means something important, that is connected to what you observed.” – Cloudburst added softly.

“Trine, right?” – Starscream was a bit frustrated. He wasn’t stupid!

“Trine-challenges, yes. Starscream… it is very important to know that you will get many challenges like that, for Trine or for just competition, once you’re an adult Seeker.”

“You are from my line, a Royal Prince, intelligent and beautiful. Many will covet you.”

“But not many for courting, not at first.”

“All Seekers aim to sort out Trine-relationships and ranking challenges before courting mates.”

Starscream looked from one to another as his Creators explained to him what he more or les already knew, waiting for the thing that got them both so worried. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“But you must remember that for now you can and you should refuse to enter challenge fights.”

Starscream’s optics widened in surprise.

“B-but that’s… I’m not weak or coward to do that!”

“No! Of course not. If anything you are too bold and headstrong… but that is exactly why you must think before accepting a challenge. As a newly adult Seeker you may do that without a stigma. The new frame takes time to get used to and every Seeker knows this.”

“Ahhh…”

“Besides you won’t be a match for an experienced flier, no matter your speed and agility; and it is unthinkable if you loose a challenge… a possible Winglord must be Trine-leader.”

“Not to mention, Starscream, dearspark that you were sparked a leader… not a second or third in a Trine. Accepting a too early challenge might seal you to a fate you wouldn’t enjoy in the very least.”

“And also…” – Starwing looked faintly disgusted – “there are those… a few, but there are still some who’d just want to challenge young Seekers for… for an interface.”

Starscream felt a sudden, cold tremor run down his spinal strut. He wasn’t the kind to worry much, but his Sire’s words shook him more than usual, like they carried a strange premonition. An image of that dark green Seeker rose up from his memory-banks, the tone, the touch, the intent he didn’t understand at the time, but became clear now. One of those… he had to be one of those. Nodding hesitantly he tried to push it from his processor.

“I’ll… think first, Sire, Carrier.”

“I also want you to stay in the Palace. I’m even willing to allow that… low-caste youngling in but you should not fly out.”

“And how am I to gain experience without flying?”

“Guards will accompany you to the training grounds. No Seeker of any caste would dare to challenge you there with the guards around. But you must promise not to stray away from those guards!”

He wasn’t happy about the restrictions, but accepted them grudgingly, seeing how serious both his Creators were about the matter. At least he could see Skywarp more, as before this occasion his Sire categorically forbade the low-caste Seekerling to come to the Aerie. It underlined how worried he was to allow Skywarp to meet with Starscream . 

“Okay… when will I get my new frame?” – he was excited at the thought.

“In a few orns, Starscream.”

-o-o-o-

The orns flew like a Seeker on favourable winds and swift wings and all too soon Starscream onlined to an aching, strange and huge frame that felt like tons compared to his light and slim youngling one of before. Still, when he sat up, surrounded by his family all fawning over his colours and lines, Starscream couldn’t help but flare the aching plates up proudly and fan out enormous-feeling wings around him that for a nanoklik nearly pulled him backwards. It was strange not to perceive his creators big even though his adult frame was, as they all agreed slightly smaller, thinner than theirs, geared for speed and agility first and foremost, his greatest assets. 

But it was still huge for the youngling’s meta that was used to coordinate a much smaller one. He hated to feel awkward and knew that it should pass in a few orns. But for now he needed help even just to get back to his rooms and the effort tired him out so fast he sank into the berth covers as soon as he got there and recharged for the rest of the orn, only woken up by the servants bringing him energon and treats. He onlined fully again much later, with far less awkwardness and aches to Skywarp’s excited babbling…

“Shees, Star, you are huuuuge!”

“Skywarp?”

“Yeah, that’s me still. Your Sire is scary, if you must know, but he allowed me to come here anyway. How do you feel? You look… nice.”

Skywarp’s voice nearly dripped with envy and admiration and when Starscream could properly focus on him he nearly choked on his words. He used to be that small too? The still youngling Seeker just came up to his waist now, the black wings barely poked out by his shoulders. His own, far larger wings flared out automatically and Starscream basked in the naked envy of Skywarp’s faceplates, even as he suppressed the wince at the still-aching wing-joints.

“Ohhh… they’re… beautiful…” – the black youngling stammered and the red optics feasted on the colours of Starscream’s frame.

Starscream stood up with another wince, smiled at his suddenly oh-so-small friend and staggered towards a mirror. He wanted to see himself at last. He knew what to expect, but actually seeing it was different. What he saw in the mirror was enough to preen again happily. The got his wishes perfectly for once. He couldn’t care less if anymech called him a femme, he needed the slim, aerodynamic frame, the less weight he carried, the better and the comparatively long wings, to utilize his speed and agility. And his colours that so many frowned at seeing? For all Starscream cared, they could go to the Pit and stay there. He was sparked thus and he wouldn’t give his reds, silver and azures for any ‘more Seekerlike’ colours.

“What about you?” – he turned back to his friend. He knew Skywarp was poor and he had every intention to help him get a frame he deserved. He had… plans with the black Seeker, plans that he never dared to mention to anyone in his family, plans he was sure more and more in his spark as they grew up together. 

“What about me? I have a few vorns yet before I could be that big and… awkward.”

Typical to his nature, Skywarp has already forgotten his envy and smirked mischievously to his suddenly so huge friend. He was worried about the difference between them, but his processor wasn’t wired to hold onto worries for long, jumping onto new topics fast.

“I’ll show you awkward…!” 

Starscream snorted and two large servos suddenly latched onto the black youngling’s wings, mock shaking them, while mirth danced in his red optics. 

“Hey, you freak giant! Lemme go!”

Skywarp laughed easily, feeling no force, nor any bad intention behind the grab. It was just a playful move, like the times they often tussled. Kinda impossible now, as Starscream could wrap him up with one servo. It also meant that they couldn’t fly together either, when Starscream was finally pronounced ready by the royal medics and stood on the Aerie’s landing pad, ready to spread his real wings the first time in flight. His whole family was around and so many guards, nobles and courtiers that Skywarp had to stay inside, only watching his friend from a window.

In the Aerie the black youngling had to face with the fact often that he was, after all a nomech, his caste so low as to be almost nonexistent. It was something he could never forget, but it was also tolerable while he was in the city itself, even more so when Starscream was with him – that made most mechs shut up with the sneering comments and the rude wing-gestures. But in the Aerie… here every look was condescending, every mech considering him filth, only some of the servants were a little friendlier. But he put up with it the best he could – and stayed close to Starscream when he could.

Starscream stood straight and proud in the middle of his family, finally the same size as them – or near enough that he didn’t care - wings flared out fully, enjoying the attention and listening to the speeches impatiently. He wanted to fly, like… NOW. But protocol, as always had a servo in how matters were to go in the Winglord’s family and he had to endure the speeches, the well-wishes and the prayers before he could stretch his wings finally. He cast a quick glance at the small window, where Skywarp’s dark form was half hanging out of the opening and winked. 

::Meet you at the training grounds. The other one.::

::Gotcha!::

Starscream ground his denta a bit, but finally, after nearly a joor of talks and ceremony, the circle of mechs around him widened and Starwing nodded to him, beaming proudly and smiling hugely.

“Take flight, young Seeker of my line. May the winds carry you safely always!”

“Thank you, Sire!”

Two steps and he jumped, thrusters coming online in a perfect timing to propel him up, and his frame was folding into the new shape, wings snapping into position, catching the air. Turbines roared up and pushed him forward, up into the skies of Vos. Ailerons trembled and set, steering him to a safe course. Brand new sensors came alive and exulted in the sensation of air, sun and wind. Dimly Starscream heard the adulation and clapping from his family and the court, but his attention was on his path. It was perfectly acceptable for a young Seeker to be a bit shaky on his first adult flight… but he wasn’t just an average Seeker and he would carve as straight a vapour trail into the blue sky as any of them. He wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than perfection when it came to flying. 

Then the guards fell into formation around him, keeping a respectful distance, but following him fastidiously. Each one of them had their orders from the Winglord himself, Starwing detailing just what any lack of attention, or leaving Starscream alone would mean to them. Losing their wings would be the smallest of their troubles had any such thing happened… so they were all alert and dedicated, following the tricoloured jet closely.

Skywarp got to the adults’ training place far behind them, his speed of course much slower than the full-sized tetrajets’. By the time he got there, Starscream was breezing through the course among the adulation of several hundred Seekers who collected at the news of the Prince there. The black youngling couldn’t even get close to him, there were several adult Seekers in the crowd pushing or shooing him away. He had to be content with settling on a high platform, from where he could barely see anything. He was even more surprised when a similarly small form landed beside him, the rich, blue colour giving away Thundercracker before he even spoke. 

“So that’s the ‘not so spoilt brat’ Prince now?”

Skywarp smirked back to the other Seekerling, clearly hearing the envy in his voice too. They have met and talked a few times since their first meeting and were well on their way on becoming friends too. Much to the acute dislike of Thundercracker’s Sire, who nearly forbid his creation to meet with the low-caste youngling. Of course the fact that Skywarp was the Prince’s friend shut him up completely, once he could believe it. He still disdained Skywarp, but the possibility of Thundercracker meeting Starscream was enough to make him stop objecting to the black Seekerling’s presence. 

“Sure. Hiya there, TC. How come yer here too?”

“The other course is empty.” – the scowl was queerly adultlike on the youngling faceplates – “They all flocked here to see him.”

“An’ you wanted to too, right?”

“No! I’m _not_ interested! But alone is not good either.”

Below them, deep in the maze of the course was the subject of their envy, breezing through the course with a confidence belying his age and the onlokers sighed and ooohed every turn and twist he made. The envious thoughts and hidden wishes were so thick in the air, it was nearly palpable. Nearly all Seekers in the crowd secretly imagined themselves standing proudly by the wings of the Prince, being in his Trine, basking in his fame. Some of them, from noble families dared to consider it a possibility even and were determined to catch those elusive and shrewd red optics. 

When Starscream finished the course and proudly landed on a platform, he was immediately surrounded by the crowd. Not many dared to go really close, but some of the noble Seekers did and the rest of them just shifted closer and closer… Starscream usually enjoyed the attention he got and he was eager to display his new frame for the first time… but after a breem even he found the oppressive attention a bit too much. Especially as the glances were distinctly different from what he was used to, less playful, much sharper, more calculating, more aggressive, even thought the Seekers were all behaving superficially respectful. 

But there was an edge, something indefinable in the air that made him flare his armour and spread his wings. Several pairs of wings around him dropped at once in response, some after a bit of a hesitation and retaining a flicker of resistance in the red optics. Untrined, young Seekers shifted around and a few of the boldest, one of them a tricoloured one like himself, a distant cousin of his Carrier’s side, moved closer, nearly touching distance and their wings signaled _interest/display/hint of a challenge_. Starscream growled, the sound a little raspy still, but deep enough to rattle some of them out of their displays. The guards moved closer, casting apologetic glances to the noble Seekers, but forcefully inserting their presence and what it signalled. The flickers of challenge suddenly died down from red optics, bright wings shifted to more neutral positions. Several Seeker took off from the platform in a flurry of wings and turbines and a forced chatter started up among the rest. 

Skywarp and Thundercracker watched the proceedings below them with jaws hanging and for once neither of them commenting on it. They both felt the pull, the urge _to be there_ for Starscream, with Starscream... impossible as it was while they were still Seekerlings. Neither of them had a real chance to be among those courting, challenging, and in time possibly being claimed by him. Thundercracker didn’t even want to be among them, not consciously anyway. But their sparks still whispered to them defiantly.


	9. Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additional warning: dub-con leaning strongly towards non-con. Heavy violence and minor OC's death.

“You don’t have to watch him every time, Warp. You should practice yourself instead.”

They were sitting on their favourite platform again, while Starscream enjoyed the testing of his new frame below. Skywarp watched the tricoloured tetrajet’s every move avidly, while Thundercracker, slightly scowling as he usually did when the topic was the Seeker Prince, tried to convince him to get some air time for themselves. 

“What for? It isn’t like I’ll have any chance of a job that would need it.”

“You are an idiot. Do you really think Starscream wouldn’t help you in time? He is your friend.”

“I see how his family looks at me…”

“Yeah, they don’t want you to be his Trine-mate. But they wouldn’t object if he got you a decent position in the army or among the royal guards. But only if you can fly decently.”

Skywarp’s helm whipped to look at Thundercracker. He never thought of that, but it did make sense. A sudden hope rose in his spark… if he could stay close to Starscream, in time they might… _nah, Skywarp, don’t go there_. Trining is out of question. But Thundercracker might be right with his advice…

“Do you… really think so?”

“I do. Come on. We should practice.”

Sending a quick comm to the Prince, the two Seekerlings departed towards the other course where the younger fliers could train. Starscream wasn’t pleased seeing that his friends left, but he continued to fly the course and soon forgot about his momentary annoyance. There were quite enough Seekers around him this time too, all of them praising his performance, his frame… the cleverest ones even his intelligence, knowing that the Prince was equally proud of all his assets.

“Prince Starscream… would you be amenable to a… race?” – one of the noble Seekers, Windsong suggested excitedly. He cast a nervous glance to the guards, his blue wings dropped an inch behind him and he continued hurriedly – “Of course not as a challenge! Just a friendly race!”

“That’s a good idea!” – another exclaimed – “We could all take part, so it is not like a duel, right?”

Starscream frowned a little, but they seemed innocent enough and it was clearly stated that the race would not be a challenge – and if he was honest, a race against live opponents and not the timer was something he enjoyed greatly and missed since becoming an adult. Besides Windsong was polite, moderately interesting, hardly older than himself and also new to his adult frame. Ohh, and he looked great with all the shades of blue blending into each other on his frame, accented with brilliant, shining gold. Starscream could appreciate that look. Windsong was one Seeker not even his Creators would object to befriending and maybe eventually trining. He had the background and skills too to back him up… and he knew it by the superior looks he cast to the others around. 

“All right then. Standard race, no weapons, full course, the first over the line wins. Who’s in?”

Several noble servos and wings shot up at once, some more, lower ranking Seekers waving a bit later and a little more hesitantly and Starscream smirked. He choose the ranking ones and picked a few of the others with good skills. For a nanoklik he rued that his friends could not be there among them yet… but he pushed away the thought fast. In the end a score of eager Seekers stood on his sides at the startline, stealing glances at each other while his guards looked on nervously. Although it was going to be just a race, it often happened in the heightened mood of stress and excitement of it that a sudden challenge was announced unexpectedly. 

“Go!”

The sudden roar of turbines was deafening in the platform as they all took off at once, straining their engines to get a good position at the course’s first obstacle. Starscream was leading the pack, having caught the start-signal perfectly and utilizing his trademark speed. Windsong’s multihued blue wings and Nightfighter’s silver-edged black ones were straight behind him, the military Seeker’s otherwise stark black frame a strange spot of darkness among the more colourful wings. He was fast, but he also lost time at each turn, letting the slightly slower but more agile jets overtake him.

Starscream felt his new frame tense, groan, stretch and pull almost painfully at each turn, the new components not quite acting together seamlessly yet. It wasn’t so much painful as uncomfortable, but he knew that he would be quite sore by the end of the orn. It was always thus after upgrading so he ground his denta together, and pushed his new frame to its limits and beyond. The newness and pains would go away only with plenty of practice, he knew, and so he flew with full throttle, ignored the painful twinges and aches at each turn, roll and bank. Later, back in the Aerie he would groan and whimper as the oil bath and a massage unkinked the cables and joints, but for now, no mech would hear a sound of pain from him. And he would win anyway, no matter how much it hurt. 

He did. Though by the end of the course Windsong nearly caught up with him, because his wing-joints felt like they were on fire, but he retained enough advantage that he came out in front of the blue Seeker. Landing on the nearest platform Starscream fought not to bend over and whimper at the pain, but somehow he remained upright and hid his pained grimace, even acknowledged Windsong’s congratulations with some pride. He, the youngest among them, beat them all at the first try – a feat he felt was more than worthy of a little pain. 

And of course there was a challenge after the race, but not one aimed at him; Nightfighter took umbrage of Sky Shark’s somewhat underhanded maneuver that the other used to get ahead of him and called him out as soon as the race was over. It was the first real challenge Starscream saw from up close but he thoroughly enjoyed it; he bet on Nightfighter to win, the black Seeker, a military Commander’s creation was far better versed in air combat than the loudmouthed noble, Sky Shark. It was an opinion many of the others shared too and when the black Seeker forced his opponent down, they all cheered him. It was quite a festive, excited atmosphere that not even his sore joints could dampen… until he saw the winner get behind the other and he wasn’t sure of his feelings about _that_.

Of course he felt the lust. He was an adult Seeker now and his interface components were as much active now as his other systems, waking him up often from recharge with hot dreams. Seeing another Seeker’s spike stand stiffly before Nightfighter thrust into the yellow and red mech made him shuffle uncomfortably, heat suffusing his systems. A hum rose around him, and Starscream remembered a certain song long-long time ago. Now he knew what that was back then. The urge to join in was too strong and his still slightly raspy vocalizer joined to the others’ in the song he now knew the meaning of. Its mood was still much the same as he remembered, driving, rhythmic beat with strong, deep, throaty vocals, suffusing him with even more heat. All around him vents roared to life, pedes tapped the rhythm and wings twitched to the beat as they watched the coupling.

Sky Shark keened high below them, cutting through the hum of the song. A deeper roar of completion answered him from Nightfighter and the song rose to its crescendo, ending suddenly as the two Seekers slumped on each other down below. Several Seekers took off suddenly in ones and twos, and Starscream knew that there would be plenty of interfacing among them before the orn grew old. He, himself would have wanted some… or at least his own servo if nothing else. He took off from the platform so suddenly his guards were scrambling to catch up with him. Looking back he saw the black Seeker petting the yellow wings, the fast coupling turning into something much warmer, more intimate. They were a Trine in the making, that much was obvious. 

But barely halfway to the Aerie his flight was disturbed again. The small explosion below was barely visible, but they all heard the nearest spire’s structure groaning and its top third toppled with majestic slowness into its sturdier neighbour. It stopped the fall of the lighter, not residential tower, but the crunching, grinding noises as the two structures trembled to stay upright nearly froze his energon and he made a move to change his path towards the erupting chaos and shouting from the endangered residents.

“Lord Starscream, please stay back!”

Starscream almost hit his guard, but realized that he truly shouldn’t go into the groaning, shuddering buildings. His slighter build and new frame might be even more in danger than the others he wanted to help. 

“Get in there, all of you!” – he shouted at them – “make sure every mech makes out safely!”

He didn’t linger around once the guards were gone, instead he turned to fly fast towards the Aerie, a strange, illogical wish flashing through his processor to have Skywarp… and even his friend, Thundercracker by his side. Without the guards and his friends around him he felt… almost naked, like there was some mech watching him…

When the green-grey Seeker swooped down in front of him, he knew. Ignoring the rudeness, he banked hard to the left and sped towards the Palace. But he was sore and tired and the green Seeker knew the place better – and swung ahead of him from behind a tower, making their wings screech on each other. It was the most blatant challenge Starscream ever heard of and it turned him angry. How dared he…?

“Out of my way, now! I’m not interested in this! Be glad I don’t call the royal guard on you!”

Starscream shouted angrily even as he tried to gain an advantage in the cramped space.

“They are… _busy_ , young Prince. It is just _your Highness_ and lowly me.” 

The voice was purring but rough, mocking him with the honorific and it made Starscream shiver with something he hesitated to label as fear. And the other was blocking his path with skill, herding him away from the commotion, away from his guards, into a deserted-looking place where he saw no other Seekers around in the air or the platforms. 

“You are very talented, Prince…” – the purring voice praised him and a cold shudder run up Starscream’s backstrut hearing it – “… what a fine young Seeker, what a worthy Heir to the _esteemed_ Winglord…”

“Leave me alone!”

“You don’t mean that, _Prince_ … you are all hot and…”

“Shut up and let me go!”

Fear he wouldn’t admit to himself made his voice shrill and his flight predictable. Starscream tried to collect himself, ignore the other and concentrate on flying. The other was older and more experienced, but Starscream was faster. Once he had some space he could loose the slagger. He just had to avoid him until then… swinging around the green frame he used the structures to gain some space from him. Too bad that in the move he scraped the green wings and the shrill noise sounded almost ominous.

“So, you decided to play? Why, Prince, I’m surprised!”

Too late Starscream realized that by engaging in the chase he more or less accepted the challenge – and by giving back the scratches on his wings he definitely did. Slag. 

“But I won’t say no to such an aspiring young Seeker.”

“Slag you! I’m not… I didn’t… I’d never…”

“Ohh, but you did, young Prince…”

Not all challenges were formally announced and verbally accepted. It was considered to be polite and normal, but sometimes there were no words, no formalities, only the raw, instinctual act that harkened back to the base form of their coding, the ruthless, sometimes even cruel roots that lived in each Seeker. The unknown flier invoked these deeper protocols and Starscream knew that he’d been deceived, trapped by it and now he would have to treat the encounter to the full seriousness of a challenge. 

He upped his speed, trying to break out somewhere, but the other was vily, easily countering his moves. Starscream’s joints ached more and more fiercely at each turn until it started to affect his flying and put him even more at disadvantage. He had to employ some desperate measures. Transforming to his root form Starscream cut his engines and dropped straight down by a tower, the metallic walls flashing by a dizzying rate. He came out of the freefall far lower, actually screaming from the pain his wing nodes sent to his processor at the sudden G-force – but he missed crashing into the landing platform by mere meters and swung forward, into the tower itself.

It was madness flying inside with such speed, but Starscream was desperate. He followed the main downward ramp and twisted around the central column that would shatter him into so many pieces if crashing into it, and swung out of a window on the other side, all sensors straining to catch the green Seeker. When he was nowhere, Starscream slowed down marginally, releasing a tiny sigh. Now, he could escape, since this low by the tower was clear of the structures hindering him before. 

The sudden weight slamming onto his back was a shock and added to the pain of the wing joints. Starscream screamed and no matter how he fought, how his engines strained, the weight forced him downwards. Strong servos gripped his wing-edges with talons pricking into the metal and a cruel laugh froze his energon. It couldn’t have been the green Seeker, it was impossible for him to catch Starscream here! But then who was he, how… and why?

They slammed into a lower platform, down in the permanent semi-darkness at the base of the mighty towers, where Seekers rarely ever went voluntarily. It was unused and dirty and its rusting structure creaked frighteningly under their weight. Starscream was sprawled among the debris and stale oil puddles, barely conscious from the pain and the crash. He felt the weight standing up from his back and even groaned a little sigh of relief on behalf of his wing joints… but the relief disappeared when he lifted his throbbing helm and saw a pair of pedes touch down in front of him. They were dark green. He remembered that for the rest of his life. 

A cruel servo pulled him up by an aching wing from behind and his tank flipped. They were two. And he lost.

“You deceived me!”

It came out more distraught than indignant and for that Starscream berated himself. Two laughs answered only and they moved closer, crowding him, not letting him get up fully, easily restraining his struggling.

“Sire will take you apart alive!” – and it wasn’t even an exaggeration, Starscream knew. Starwing would be enraged, furious hearing what happened. But the green Seeker just laughed again, cruelly, mockingly.

“We know all about angry Sires… right, Quake?”

Another snort answered to him, the tone, the voice, the cruel edge the same as the green one’s, boasting.

“They never catch us.”

“And we don’t want anything else from you, young Prince… but our due.”

Starscream looked up, into the smoldering red optics, his throbbing processor trying to decipher the words. That meant… that meant he wouldn’t be ruined, claimed, forced to be a third in a Trine and humiliated… only raped. Only. Small consolation, he admitted to himself, still unwilling to concede defeat.

“You cheated! Issued the challenge alone, but your partner caught me, not you!”

He felt rather than saw the smirk on the other’s faceplates and the cold dread grew in him.

“But _I/we_ are one, young prince…”

He used the special glyph only twins could – the one meaning one spark in two frames. Spark-twins. Starscream cursed, but his coding was already accepting the situation and he felt loosing control of his frame. The slightest push from behind sent him to his knees keening and their lewd laughter echoed in his audials. Rough servos felt between his thighs and his valve cover snapped back by itself even as he cringed from the touch and bitter energon rose in his intake. He was enraged, frightened and faintly nauseous at the same time, the emotions warring in his meta until he couldn’t tell them apart, until everything melted together, into hot, burning shame.

“Hehh.. how eager the Prince is for his first frag!”

 _Nononono_ …. but the more he tried to struggle, the more the coding acted up until he could do nothing. Shame forced some drops of cleanser into his optics which he angrily shook off. He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of these slaggers. Rough servos slid on his wings, the aching appendages twitching uneasily under the unwanted touch. No pleasure came from the rough petting though, he couldn’t even find the least of the heat so much suffusing him earlier. Digits pressed into his valve and Starscream tried once more, ineffectually break free, crying out in a hoarse tone as they stretched his entrance. He didn’t beg though. He cursed them and promised them a thousand deaths until the digits left and the growling Seeker thrust into him suddenly.

It hurt. Primus help him, but it hurt so much Starscream couldn’t keep his voice from keening with pain. He writhed in the hold of his own coding and the strong servos as the other rammed into his burning valve, the inability to move, his will taken away from him almost as bad as the physical pain he had to endure. It didn’t take long before the Seeker reached his overload, pumping his valve full of transfluid, stinging the abraded walls… but it felt like an eternity to the young Prince. 

Starscream nearly slumped onto the dirty ground – everything just hurt from his valve till his pride, but the coding still held him in its clutches. Through the throbbing in his processor and the haze of pain, shame and humiliation, he didn’t hear when someone started to shout over their helms and his captors answered with vile curses. He didn’t hear the sounds of a brief fighting above him. The one who raped him pulled out suddenly, but no other pain flared up in his abused valve as he expected and feared – another set of servos grabbed him but he was only roughly thrown down to the dirty platform and Starscream finally dropped his helm amidst the dirt and debris and succumbed to unconsciousness.

-o-o-o-

Skywarp was truly, whooping mad. It rarely happened, but when it did, he usually did pretty stupid things. Like attacking two adult, fully grown Seekers. How could he not, when they hurt Starscream? But he was batted away like a cyberfly that he was compared to them and despite of his fury the slight pain slapped back enough common sense to his helm to know he couldn’t help his friend this way. He warped away then, straight into the heart of the Aerie, uncaring that he was forbidden to do so and would probably be punished for it. The room was an uproar mere kliks after he appeared and a guard very nearly shot him before Skywarp started to shout.

“Star’s hurt! You must help! He’s… they’re hurting him! Help! Come… NOW! They caught him!”

Starwing was the first to correctly deduce his babbling, nervous, nearly incoherent words and the Winglord in his awakening fury was a sight to behold.

“Where?”

For the first time in his life, Skywarp teleported someone else than himself. It nearly depleted him, even though lately he always had his tanks full, thanks to Starscream. But stumbling, half kneeling on the platform, crawling over to Starscream who appeared to be offline, he was treated a rare sight. Starwing was nearly beside himself with murderous fury and he was fighting with two other Seekers, one of them clearly splattered with fluids, showing what he was up to earlier. It was him that the Winglord concentrated on, while the green Seeker could only follow their mad flight and fight around the dim darkness. 

There was no doubt in Skywarp’s processor who would win. It was only a matter of time. But he still watched it avidly while holding onto Starscream’s larger, heavy and battered frame. All too soon there were torn pieces and parts raining down around them, energon drops fell like a queer rain and screams of agony echoed around the dirty walls. The guards arrived some time later, to see their ruler tear apart a Seeker piece by energon-stained piece. Then the falling pieces started to get bigger and Skywarp shuddered as a mangled arm crashed down right beside them. All too soon in his opinion, the final shriek died off into a horrible gurgle and the remains of an already grey frame fell into the darkness below. 

No mech moved in the sudden silence, but in the distance another dying shriek showed where the green Seeker fell to his own death. 

Starwing was frightening as he landed beside them with his red optics still burning with fury, claws out and dripping, wings flaring high and his brightly coloured frame liberally splattered with energon. Skywarp might have shuffled backwards as the burning gaze fell on him, had he not been halfway offline due to his depleted tank. As it was Starwing – impossibly! – nodded to him - a noname, low-caste Seekerling! – and knelt beside them, lifting Starscream gently into his arms. His glance fell to Skywarp again and he spoke up gravely.

“I am grateful. I won’t forget what you’ve done.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings, warnings and tags might change later as chapters are added!


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